Notches on the Bedpost
by SabreDae
Summary: The M rated version(s) of chapters from one of my other works, If You See Kate. It's not entirely necessary, but I would strongly suggest you read that story first before reading this.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So here's the extended M rated version of Chapter 9 of If You See Kate. It goes without saying that I do not own Castle or it's characters.**

* * *

His lips are barely on hers for more than a second before they're moving down to her neck, lathing over where her pulse pounds against her skin. Her traitorous body works against her, hands rising to lock around his neck and pin him in place against her because _damn him_ the way he's working his mouth over her skin feels _good_. Not just in a you're-a-pretty-good-kisser way but in a holy-shit-take-me-now way. How he knows _exactly _where her sensitive spot is – the one that literally makes her weak in the knees and has her gripping tightly to his biceps – would be a pressing issue if her mind wasn't clouded with lust.

It takes him mere seconds to take off her coat and unbutton her shirt and then his hands are on her, everywhere all at once. Her skin erupts in a trail of gooseflesh everywhere his calloused fingers touch her skin and she trembles under his ministrations, warmth pooling in her middle when his lips find her clavicle.

She's not even moved, her muscles seemingly locked in place – the hold she has on his head probably painful now – and yet he's still kissing her, unperturbed by her lack of reciprocation. Hell, she's actually embarrassed by the fact that he's managed to take off her shirt and is fingering the clasp of her bra, _teasing _her and she hasn't made a single move towards equalling their level of dress. He's already had to remove his own coat.

"Where's the bedroom?" he mumbles against her skin, startling her into movement finally. When she spins, his hands land somewhere near her waist and his lips press against her neck, the tip of his nose disturbing her hair as he deliberately inhales the aroma of cherries. Her breath catches and she gasps audibly. She feels him grinning in response, his smug smile etching into her back when he ducks and presses a kiss between her shoulder blades. She gets the last laugh though. Reaching a hand back and palming him through his pants earns her a strangled noise before she releases him and leads the way into her dark bedroom, saucily swaying her hips because she knows he's watching.

It shocks her when he grabs her from behind. In her head he'd been standing there gawking at her sexy walk not suddenly lunging for her and lining his body up behind her so she can feel exactly what her womanly wiles are doing to him. The push back of her hips is anything but innocent as he shuffles them forwards, one of his hands moving around her body and to the button of her slacks. The work clothes she still hasn't changed out of are easy to unzip, allowing his hand to slide under the elastic of her panties and lightly stroke over her clit. She strains in his hold, trying to press harder against his hand and get some kind of friction to relieve the pressure building inside her. But his touch is fleeting and his hand skims back over her pubis as he removes it from her underwear, the movement far too deliberate. The knowledge that he's purposefully holding back, trying to draw this out fuels her with fire and she twists quicker than a coiled snake springing after its prey, grappling with his shirt and tearing it open.

His mouth opens to protest about his ruined shirt but any words he had are smothered by her demanding kiss. She nips and sucks at his lower lip, stroking her tongue over the length of his and smirking at his deep groan that builds and vibrates through them both. Pushing his torn and now-button-less button-down shirt off his shoulders, she runs her hands down his toned frame, squeezing slightly under his ribcage. The discovery that he's apparently ticklish there is information she stores away for later, though she has no clue why. Not when he's lowering her onto her bed and slowly pulling her trousers down her legs, taking his sweet time with the task until she impatiently bucks her hips off the bed.

With her black pants gone, all she's left in is her underwear. Eager to get things really moving, she lurches up until she's sat with her legs over the edge of the bed and his crotch is level with her face. Her eyes flash to his, keeping eye contact as she slides the zipper down, letting the two strips of metal come apart one tooth at a time, torturing him as he did her. If her fingers brush over the defined bulge in pants before she hooks her fingers into his belt loops and tugs, well that's just accidental.

His hands slide into her short hair, tangling and gripping just behind her ears to angle her mouth towards his. Clambering onto the bed, he noses one of his knees between hers, jerking when she grinds onto his thigh. She grins wickedly as one of her hands reaches out and blindly opens a draw on her left. The wrapper of the condom she's picked out crinkles before she puts it down on the table.

"There a problem, _Kitten_?"

Instead of answering, he pulls one of the cups of her bra down and without warning latches onto her revealed nipple. She surges upwards, hands holding his head to her chest – not that he'd even been considering moving away.

"Didn't think so," she mutters, completely breathless. The sound of her uneven breathing, the hitch she gets every time his teeth grave her sensitive flesh, is music to his ears. She arches to allow his wandering hand to finally unhook her black bra, thanking whatever higher power there is for how talented Richard Castle's mouth is when he's not talking.

It feels like no time at all before he's abandoning her chest, trailing kisses down her torso and around her bellybutton, making her squirm below him every time the scruff of his stubble scratches her sensitive skin. There's a dark patch on her panties when he pulls them down her shapely legs and throws them somewhere in the dark behind him, no longer caring about the piece of material that completes her underwear set now that she's fully naked beneath him.

"Divine," she thinks she hears him murmur, voice a reverent whisper. It's hard to be sure though because he wastes no time pressing open mouthed kisses to the insides of her thighs.

He kneels between her legs, breathing in the scent of her arousal before he experimentally flicks his tongue out over her, earning himself a buck of her hips. He can see her muscles contracting in expectation. She's so charged that every touch of his mouth or his fingers has her writhing and he's forced to restrain her with an arm over her hips. The way he's working her though, playing her body like an instrument, it would be impossible for her not to strain towards him. She comes like a breaking storm, simultaneous stimulation of two of his fingers over her g-spot and his tongue on her clit doing wonders.

While she's still recovering, he divests himself of his boxers and grabs the condom, ripping the foil open and sheathing himself before settling between her legs. Pulling one up by the knee and wrapping it around his hip as he pushed into her warm heat, the sensation of her tight muscles around him pulling a deep groan from his lips.

"Fuck."

She arches in response, her muscles shifting around him and her abdomen brushing his, sparking in him the need to _move_. Her stuttered gasp echoes through the dark room as he withdraws before pumping back into her. Delirious with pleasure, she grasps at the closest thing – the satin throw beneath her, twisting her fingers into it and biting her lip as she rolls her hips with him.

The moans start slow, but she's soon mewling – a sound she _swears _has never left her mouth during sex before. Not even with Will. It's just so _good. _Positively amazing, actually. Mind-bogglingly so.

She's so close, just needing that little something to push her over the edge and into her second orgasm of the night. "Faster," she mutters, but even as she says the words, he's already picking up the pace – reading her mind as easily as he finishes her sentences. One of his hands tangles with hers; sweaty palms pressed together just like their lips.

When an arch of her back brings him into contact with her g-spot, she desperately grabs at him, nails scraping over his shoulder and down his ribs before she manages to grip his bicep, grounding herself as the coiled pressure in her core snaps like an elastic band and her climax rushes through her. Head thrown back, eyes shut tight, she quakes, muscles repeatedly contracting around him until after a few thrusts it's too much and he's coming inside her. Spent, his head drops, forehead resting against her shoulder.

His hot breath whispers against her flushed skin and it's only then that it hits her.

_What has she done?_

* * *

Only the moonlight illuminates her naked form. It shines off of the thin film of sweat that coats her body, showing her chest rapidly rising and falling while she comes down from her euphoric high. God, it's beautiful, he thinks. _She's _beautiful.

"That was-" he breaks off, tries to think of a word that appropriately describes how _earth-shattering _that experience was before only lamely coming up with, "wow!" He doesn't notice her flinch when he splays one of his palms across her stomach or the way her eyes flick to him before filling with regret.

She jerks upright and grabs for the bedsheet, covering her modesty from him.

"Kate?" he asks, propping himself on his elbow, looking at her with concern.

The use of her first name makes her cringe and want to bolt for the door but she tames the reaction and instead forces herself to look at him. "This was a mistake. Y-you should go, Castle." After that she stands and walks into her bathroom, desperately trying to hide how much her legs shake, and locks the door behind her, running a shower. He can hear the water and for a minute he stays there lying on her bed and staring, expecting the door to open again and for her to walk out and say she was joking because how could something so perfect, so _right_ have been a mistake. When it's clear she's not coming out, he stands and shuffles about her bedroom, numbly collecting his clothes.

* * *

Hesitance pervades as she eases the door open and then breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of her empty bedroom. He's gone, thankfully. Not that she'd expected him to stick around, not after he'd made his conquest.

She tiptoes barefoot, clad only in the towel she'd wrapped around her body after showering, through her dark apartment to make sure her front door is deadbolted. On the way back to her bedroom, she doesn't bother turning lights on, but at the sight of her messy bed she halts. It's a shameful reminder of what she's just left happen. Instead she grabs a blanket so she can sleep on the couch for the night. She wants a peaceful night's sleep, but the ghost of his touch refuses to leave her. She can still feel his fingers digging into the skin of her hips, remembers the scrape of his stubble on the insides of her thighs. The memory of him burns on her skin and in her memory.

When she stumbles into work the next morning, with tired and bloodshot eyes hidden beneath layer upon layer of makeup, she just wants the day to be over. She's hoping for a chance to work through the pile up of paperwork on her desk rather than an open case. She doesn't have the energy to think hard enough to solve a case and it kills her a little bit inside that she's going to be failing at her job today.

"Beckett." It's curt and it jolts her in her chair.

"Castle, what are you doing here?" she hisses, launching her body out of her chair and hussling him straight into the breakroom. "Out!" It's an order, a command that gets the two junior detectives straight into the bullpen even though she technically has no authority over them. As she shuts the blinds, she sees both Esposito and Ryan peering over from their desks, blatantly spying. The sigh stokes her fire, feeds and fuels her ire. "You shouldn't be here."

"I came to work," he argues, nettled by her harsh and cold tone. "I need to observe you, remember? For my book?"

"No, you need to leave. I don't want you here."

"Why? Because we slept together? Because you lied to me? Why, Beckett?"

Her steel eyes bore through him as she grits her teeth, and then yells, "Shut up, Castle!"

They're toe to toe and though she's wearing a pair of her stiletto-heeled boots, he's still an inch or two taller than her. Her eyes blaze no less though as she glares up at him, the both of them locked in some kind of bubble of anger.

Suddenly, though, the door is open and Esposito is looking in, eyes moving between them. "There a problem here?"

"No," Beckett replies tightly before squeezing past. From her desk she watches Castle join Espo at Ryan's desk, the three of them gossiping like mother hens. Her heart sinks as she watches Esposito bump fists with him. The idea that he's told Ryan and Espo is unbearable, even more so than knowing that she has just become another notch on his bedpost.

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**A/N: Still pretty new to this M stuff... Review? **

**I've marked this story as complete because at this point in time I'm not far enough ahead with my If You See Kate plan to know whether there will be more M rated chapters. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This is the M-rated version of Chapter 20 of If You See Kate. Read on, peeps!**

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"Kate," he murmurs.

"Hmm?" she asks between pressing a second kiss to his palm and reaching out with her own hand to run her fingers over his jaw and the five o'clock shadow there. For a moment he squeezes his eyes shut tight, convinced he must still be in bed, dreams fulfilling one of the many fantasies he has about Kate Beckett. But when he opens them, she's still there, facing him with a half-smile, one lip trapped between her teeth, and her hand on his face. He can see the intent before she even moves, a grin of his own curving his lips just moments before her mouth descends on his.

It's a single press of her lips and then she's gone, leaving him wanting.

"What are you doing?" The words slip out before he can stop them, probably making him sound like a petulant five year old, but she just laughs, a light chuckle that reminds him of their day in the park with ice cream, the only remnant of innocent nineteen year old Kate.

Leaning towards him once more, she starts at the right corner of his mouth and moves left, each kiss lingering longer than the last.

"Better?" she asks, not even bothering to draw away from him.

"Almost," he replies, the low pitch of his voice vibrating against her lips. Sliding his hand through her hair, he rests his palm against the nape of her neck, allowing her no escape as he purposefully brushes his lips against hers again. The short strands of her hair brush his wrist as she tilts her head and for a few moments, he stops noticing anything other than the feel of her soft lips against his.

She tastes different; he thinks absently as she draws away and rests her forehead against his. Unlike last time, he can't taste a hint of vanilla. Instead the bitter tang of saltwater coats both of their lips now.

Staring at her lips, he wonders how she managed to end up effectively sitting in his lap without noticing. He can feel her weight settled against him now as well as the grip of her fingers in the right sleeve of his t-shirt. And as her lips are no longer working insistently against his, demanding his attention, he begins to notice everything else. The rapid rise and fall of her chest. The warmth of her breath over his chin. The light flush on her cheeks. The now familiar smell of cherries becoming more noticeable every time he runs his fingers through her hair. All of it widens his smile.

Taking his hand, Kate lifts herself from the couch and starts towing him towards the only other source of light, guessing that it's his bedroom. He walks slowly behind her, allowing her to set the pace and take in the details of his office and then his bedroom, the simple, masculine space he occupies. He notices her slight pause at the threshold but says nothing, just runs his thumb over the back of hand, marvelling once more at how soft and smooth it is.

His touch seems to restart her. Moments later she's leading the way to the bed and turning him around, pushing lightly to get him to sit at the end of the bed. Keeping her touch light, she stands before him and runs her hands down his neck and his torso, avoiding his injured shoulder. She smiles at his closed eyes and the shudder running through him.

As carefully as she can manage, she pulls his black shirt up and over his body, leaving him with no doubt where this is going. She has to remove the sling to accomplish the task, but as soon as she's facing his bare chest, she puts it back on, much to his disappointment. Having one hand drawn up to his torso makes it that much harder to touch her. But he still tries, reaching out with the other to slide his palm to her waist, enjoying feathering his fingers against her underneath her shirt.

He has to watch as she makes swift work of her buttons, leaving the shirt lying open for a few moments before she encourages him to lie back and shuffle back up the bed. It's awkward and slow with just one elbow for leverage, but eventually his head hits the pillow and she's shucked the shirt, leaning over him with just her bra and black leggings. He toys with the waistband, running his fingers just above it and occasionally dipping under it to watch her breath catch on a moan. He just grins and continues his actions until she kisses him once before twisting onto her back beside him and pushing the leggings down her legs.

The new expanse of skin is so fun to explore once she rolls back to straddle him. Her torso is all but forgotten as his hand trails down her thigh, stroking at the back of her knee where he knows she has an erogenous zone somewhere. His attention is drawn elsewhere however, when one of her arms disappears from his ribs and instead reaches around to her bra, unclasping it and throwing the article of clothing somewhere out of sight.

He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help trying to sit up. His weak effort has Beckett pushing on his chest and lowering herself to him instead.

A groan spills out of him when her hip brushes against his raging erection, and he grips, trying to keep her there even if it's just for a moment. While he attempts to regain some semblance of control and not blow his load there and then like a teenager because this whole experience is strangely really doing it for him, Kate begins peppering him with kisses – his forehead, his nose, his cheek, his chin and finally his neck, where she lingers as a second sound of pleasure escapes him.

He can feel the stretch of her lips and the gentle press of her teeth – tell-tale signs of her grinning at how completely she's affecting him.

"Condom?" she asks, still kissing his neck, her teeth occasionally nipping.

"Top drawer, left side of the bed," he mutters, groaning when she shifts her weight again and one of her thighs settles right over his erection. He watches her root around before she retrieves the box of _Trojan _condoms out and sets it on top of the bedside for a moment. Centring her weight with a leg either side of him, Kate trails her mouth down his torso, easing backwards until the waistband of his grey jogging bottoms meet her eyes. She flashes a look at him before dipping her fingers under and beginning to tug them down his legs, licking his hip and teasing her fingers around the head of his cock.

"Kate!" he warns sharply when her tongue flicks out to get the drop of pre-come about to fall down the length of him. If she wraps her lips around him there's no way he's going to be able to manage a second round with her.

Nodding, Kate withdraws and grabs the condom again. Her nimble fingers easing the latex down his length almost makes him lose it again. His fingers curl into tight fists as he fights, almost at the point of picturing his mother naked just to calm his body's reaction to her. God, it's hot, Beckett sheathing him like that.

Sensing how close he is from just a few touches, Kate wastes no time in removing the last of her clothing, leaving her knickers on his bedroom floor and guiding him to her entrance. His eyes roll back into his head as she sinks down on him until the backs of her thighs are flush with his legs.

Her movement to lean backwards and grip his knees is slow, allowing him to feel every ripple of her muscles around him. He groans and tightens his grip on her leg, fingers digging into her skin hard enough that they'll likely leave bruises. And when she rocks slightly, rolling her hips against his, he knows that this is going to be embarrassingly short-lived. His hips automatically jerk, thrusting up into her. She emits a gasp, finding that being on top is better with Castle than it's ever been with anyone.

The view she's giving him, arching her back as she slides up and down his length, nipples pert, makes him wish more than anything he could move his arm and pull her down against him. He wants to be able to feel her whole body against his, to be able to kiss her if he wants, to maybe put his lips elsewhere on her body – he can think of some places that would drive her absolutely wild and pull keening sounds from her throat – but he knows that there's no way she's going to put any weight on his shoulder. If getting stabbed hadn't brought them together like this again, he might actually regret it.

She's riding him so well, he can feel his testicles tightening within minutes. There's no way he'll finish and leave her hanging though. His fingers find her clit easily, circling slowly to elicit those moans that make him harder. When her thighs tighten their hold on his body and her breaths are echoing in the room he knows she's close.

"Oh God, Castle," escapes her as one of his digits – so lost in the pleasurable sensations they're making together that she doesn't even know which one – flicks quickly over her clitoris.

He does it again, feeling her muscles start to tense and it happens in an instant. She falls forward, placing a palm in the centre of his chest to stay somewhat upright as her walls clench around him and send him over the edge, only vaguely away of his hips lifting off the bed to pump into her a few more times.

Her mouth hangs open, eyes shut, fingernails digging into his skin as the trembles wash through her and if it isn't the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, he doesn't know what is.

* * *

He stays awake longer than her, subconsciously wanting to be sure she's not intending to run again. It's obvious from how quickly she's relaxed in his bed, lying beside him with one of her legs intertwined between his and a hand resting easily atop his stomach however, that she's going nowhere. It puts him at ease and he drifts for a moment, simply enjoying the feel of having a weight beside him once more, a body that feels more right than either Meredith or Gina ever did. Unable to resist, he presses a sleepy kiss to whichever part of her face he can easily reach without having to lift his head from the pillow. It could have been her nose or her temple, he has no idea because, before he can look, he's falling asleep.

* * *

He wakes to startlingly bright eyes inches from his face.

"Hi," he mumbles, yawning and wincing as his effort to stretch pulls on the stitches in his shoulder.

"You okay?" she questions, soothing her fingers down his neck. "Need some pain meds?" His bandages and the dressing keep her from seeing the damage, but she knows from experience how irritating stitches and healing wounds can be. And she's all too aware that she might have caused him more pain, much as she tried to be careful, during their night-time activities.

He grunts an affirmation and nods towards the ajar bathroom door.

"Top shelf of the medicine cabinet," he directs, watching her slither from the bed and walk naked into his bathroom, completely unabashed when she returns and catches him staring. She brings back his prescription and a tumbler of water, helping him to sit up and swallow two of the painkillers, before sitting back to simply look at him and appreciate him, this forgiving man. "What?"

"Nothing," she responds slowly, shaking her head but smiling nonetheless. "Breakfast?"

* * *

"Detective Beckett?"

"Oh, hey Alexis, I thought I'd drop in on my way to work to see how your dad was doing," Kate says as she spots the redhead coming down the stairs, looking at her in confusion. "I took pity on him when I noticed him trying to flip pancakes one handed."

Castle sighs and fixes her with a mock glare, but it's true he couldn't quite manage the frying pan and the spatula with his left arm pulled up against his chest to keep him from moving it and tearing his stitches.

It doesn't take long for Martha to appear and kiss his cheek before sliding into her usual seat beside Alexis. And once Kate has finished frying the last of the batter, they eat together, the four of them.

Nobody says a word about the rumpled state of her shirt, or the fact that she's wearing leggings rather than the usual slacks she wears to work even though it's painfully obvious. In fact for a few moments nobody says anything at all.

"How's school, Alexis?" Kate asks haltingly, wanting to break the awkward silence.

"Fine, I guess. I'm presenting my English project today." She pauses to pop a small square of one of her pancakes into her mouth and chews it slowly before continuing. "It's an analysis of the recurrent themes in _Moby Dick_."

Eyes wide, Kate swallows, the unchewed food stretching her oesophagus until the strawberry and pancake can go no further and are lodged somewhere in her throat. She coughs and splutters, face flushing red from embarrassment, though everyone else immediately leaps to their feet, worrying that it's the oxygen deprivation instead.

"Kate!"

Castle's hand pats her back, perhaps a little more forcefully than necessary – sending her leaning forwards over her plate to no avail. Standing, he pulls out her chair and helps her out of it before wrapping one arm around her, squeezing tight and somehow managing a Heimlich manoeuvre. It takes a moment, but eventually she coughs again and expels the two offending objects over her plate, breathing deeply from the effort.

"I'm fine," she gasps, aware of the three of them hovering around her with looks of concern. She shifts and loses the thick band of muscle holding her against Castle's chest, whirling around as she remembers his injury and the fact that he'd been physically hauling her up and squeezing her middle. He has to have done something. "Oh, God, your shoulder!"

He shakes his head and squeezes her arm. "'m fine." It's gruff, but he can feel his mother and daughter watching them.

"Let me see it," she demands, fingers already darting to the hem of his t-shirt, the one she'd had to help him into. He can see from the fire in her eyes that she's not going to take no for an answer, so he spins and heads back towards his bedroom, expecting her to follow. As soon as they're away from his family's prying eyes, she begins carefully lifting the shirt up his body, pausing to undo his sling and hold his arm in position while her other hand works at pulling the sleeve of stretchy cotton over it. "Alexis knows, doesn't she?" she mutters as she peels away the tape holding his dressing down and inspects the stitches, gently pressing her fingers against the surrounding skin and gauging his reactions.

"Knows what?"

"About Katherine Harlow- about me."

"Oh." It brings him up short. He hasn't _told _Alexis, but he doesn't know if she's worked out herself that she once met Beckett before. "I don't know," he admits. "It's possible-"

"-You think?" she cuts in, accidentally poking him harder and making him wince. She mumbles an apology and replaces the dressing.

"She _is_ doing a project on _Moby Dick._ Maybe that's all there is to it."

"Maybe," Beckett concedes, still worrying her lip however. "I think your shoulder's fine by the way."

He nods and waits for her to tug his shirt back on before going back out into the kitchen, unsurprised to find his mother and daughter both watching the two of them.

If they didn't suspect something was going on between them before, they do now. And he's not sure that's what Beckett wants.

He stops worrying about that though ten minutes later when she's finished her breakfast and is getting ready to leave and go to work. It seems that stunning him with a quick kiss to his lips is just one of her preparations. Martha and Alexis stare after her too as she hurries to the front door and leaves, calling out a goodbye.

"Something you want to tell us, Richard?"

* * *

She pauses on the other side of the door. Did she- Did she just kiss him? In front of his family?

She did, didn't she?

Expecting to break into a panic, Kate presses her knuckles to her mouth but finds her fingers touching a smile instead. She presses her lips together and tries to hide it but a short laugh comes out instead. So what if his family saw her kiss him. It probably won't be the last time, she thinks, starting forwards again and heading to the elevator. She has a job to get to; she can't stand outside his apartment all day.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: One last chapter for you guys. This is an M-rated scene I cut from the epilogue of If You See Kate. If you want the context of this, you'll have to go read the latest chapter posted under that story. **

* * *

"So, Tim cleared me for any and all physical activity today," Castle says eventually when they've finished the two little sponge desserts he'd whipped up, flicking his eyes at Kate catch her biting her lip and looking at him under her eyelashes.

"You gonna just sit there staring or are you gonna take me to bed, Castle?"

He swallows at her throaty tone and the blatant arousal she's looking at him with. How did the go from casual conversation over chocolate sponge to practically having sex with just their eyes?

Somehow when he stands, the movement is smooth and confident. His hand doesn't shake when he offers her it and helps her stand, gasping when she unexpectedly attaches her mouth to his and strokes her tongue inside, the both of them moaning at the taste of chocolate and wine.

Stumbling backwards, the two of them somehow make it into his bedroom without banging into a single piece of furniture, except for the bed. As they fall back on to the mattress, Rick twists, landing on his back with Kate atop him, though he soon rolls her under him so he can get to work on the shirt buttons he wasn't able to undo while his arm was still in a sling.

She writhes beneath him, hips jerking with every touch of his mouth to her hypersensitive skin as he slides her shirt down her shoulders and arms. All of it, every tiny shiver, makes him smirk though he only receives a sharp tug on his hair for it before she pushes him up enough that she can hook her fingers in the hem of his black sweater and start to pull, letting him drag it over his head and toss it in the vicinity of his laundry hamper.

The press of his warm, bare chest to her body makes the breath catch in her throat and her hands grip his sides, holding him to her as she brushes her lips over his jaw, working her way from his ear to his chin and then down his neck to his collarbone.

Wrapping a leg around his knee, Beckett twists and flips him onto his back and continues her journey downwards.

Her fingers fight with the zipper of his jeans while she licks a path around his belly button. Her minor victory is short-lived though. Before she can shift and pull the denim down his legs, Castle has his hands right around her waist and is rolling her gracefully in a move she thinks that she probably taught him.

Her bra disappears quickly, pulled from her body by Castle's nimble fingers while she's distracted with the way his tongue strokes and plunders her mouth. The instant his mouth touches her breast, she arches and claws at his pants, shoving them and his boxers down his legs with her feet in the end. He kicks them free while working at the metal clasp and zip of her slacks. By the time she feels him hot against the inside of her thigh, every item of clothing they'd been wearing is strewn around the room.

He sits up to reach for a condom from the drawer, holding it out to her with a grin. Watching her rip the packet with her teeth sends a surge of blood to his throbbing cock, a feeling that is repeated when he feels her fingers around him. He can see her licking her lips while she carefully rolls the latex down, eyes never leaving the task at hand. Once she's done, she looks up at him, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth looking so sexy that he can wait no longer.

He grips her hips as he pulls her into the gap his crossed legs offer, holding her up, while her own limbs wrap around his waist, so she can control her own descent over his considerable length. This time he can touch every part of her as she lowers herself. In contrast to the frantic pace he'd set when he removed her shirt, she's slow to sheath him completely.

Facing each other as they are, he feels her stuttered breath across his cheek when he's buried to the hilt inside her. It's easy to kiss her too while he gives her a moment to adjust before he uses his hold on her hips to raise her up slightly.

Every torturous time he lifts and drops her, her stiff, sensitive nipples brush his chest, bringing the tiniest of whimpers from her. She clings to him, one hand resting on his back, the other fisting in the silky hair at the nape of his neck. They're so close together, it kind of feels like they could be one person; not two.

"Castle," she breathes when he sucks on her neck, momentarily forgetting about the fact it's summer and she can't wear hide the mark he's leaving under a turtleneck or scarf.

The slow rocking combined with Castle occasionally lifting her enough to leave just his tip inside her before lowering her down again left her feeling fuller than ever, hardly able to breathe at the wonderful penetration and stimulation to her clit.

Intimately in each other's space, hands and mouths roaming, the two of them working as equal partners making love to each other instead of the somewhat one-sided activity between them the previous times while he couldn't properly reciprocate, everything seems to stoke the fire burning in the pit of her stomach. It overcomes her, emotion clogging her throat because they seem to fit and work so perfectly.

It won't be long until she flies apart.

She doesn't know what it is that ultimately sends her over the edge, giving her what has to be the most powerful orgasm she's ever felt. Her muscles repeatedly clamping around his cock have him joining her, the both of them panting hard as they continue to slowly rock through tremors and aftershocks. It must be some instinct for her, because aside from her breaths, she doesn't make a sound. In fact she looks quite spaced out. Her eyes don't even track his motion as he moves, dipping, to kiss her softly.

Suddenly, she speaks. "Castle?"

He mumbles something against her mouth, the sound more vibration than anything intelligible. But he draws back nonetheless.

"I love you," she murmurs, finally looking at him with familiar hazel eyes and words that stop his heart.

* * *

**A/N: This scene is smack bang in the middle of the relevant chapter of If You See Kate, so like I said if you want to read the before or after, you'll have to go to that story. I hope you guys enjoyed this short little addition though. Thank you so much for reading!  
**


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